


Visions

by NanakiBH



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Alternate Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-01
Updated: 2008-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:51:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanakiBH/pseuds/NanakiBH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The knight protects the king, but who protects the knight?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visions

The sky was a nice blue that morning. He awoke to Nunnally calling his name, telling him to get up. He picked up his mask and assumed his role before sliding into the hallway to stand before her, his young queen. Perhaps, though, not quite so young now. It had been two years since... everything changed. She seemed okay now; not entirely over it yet but learning to live a normal life without him. She would slip up sometimes and almost forget he was gone and it would quiet the both of them until Suzaku – Zero – would laugh and change the subject.

The sky was blue and what idiots they were.

How foolish to assume things would become perfect if they wished it to be.

It was clear Lelouch underestimated the value of one person. Even if he sacrificed himself to save a million others and to make them happy, he clearly didn't understand the importance of his own one life to the two of them.

Sometimes, Suzaku wished he would have been a little more selfish.

How foolish to believe things were perfect they way they were.

* * *

The sky had been blue and it was almost hard to believe that now, clouds forming from east horizon to west. Maybe it was just his vision blurring, but the rain he felt tapping on his suit felt too cold not to be real. A cough tore from his chest and blood pooled inside his mask. He choked back a wave of nausea, every inch of him burning with searing pain.

Things were not perfect. If they were, Zero would not have to exist. He was more than just a symbol and this was his purpose. To fight.

But he was not Lelouch. The mask was made for a king and he was but a knight, struggling to hold the throne on his own.

He dragged his cheek against the ground, sharp pebbles scratching the side of his mask as he tried to get back up. The wound in his side felt like it only tore farther as he fought to raise himself up, crimson gushing and mixing with the mud. As the pain got worse, it became more apparent that he was failing, quickly sinking.

A swift kick was delivered to his side, digging into the wound, making it worse, if that were even possible. He finally screamed and one of the soldiers grabbed him by the back of the neck, hauling up him. His new awkward vertical position put pressure on it, making him feel sick. Consciousness fading, the soldiers laughed and one threw a punch to his gut, sending every one of his senses reeling. He was beyond screaming now, his breath only catching in his throat, more blood filling his mouth, wetting his face.

“Goddamn copy,” one mocked.

“Yeah, how many of you are there, anyway? Twenty? A hundred?” The man grabbed his chin and lifted his face up to see his grin. “You can't be the same guy. There's no fucking way. Zero wouldn't be this easy to kill.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, laced with horrible pain. There was some sort of strange relief in what they promised. Yet, at the same time, he felt inherently disappointed, remembering his own promise to Lelouch. It was his duty to protect now, no matter what. He was losing now, dying, ready to surrender just because the clouds had moved in.

“Take off his mask. I wanna see who this fucker is.”

He would have put up more of a struggle if he didn't think he had better chances of surviving by surrendering. Two men went for the back of the mask, grasping roughly, trying to find where they could release it. His vision was fading, fading...

A gunshot fired. At first, Suzaku's blood ran cold, fearing pain would blossom again elsewhere, but there was nothing. A second passed and he was released and collapsed onto the ground, the sound of someone else falling with him audible. He clutched weakly at his side, trying to keep the wound closed and looked around as well as he could without having to turn his head. The other soldiers around him scattered, shouting frantically, though their words hardly registered as a language anymore. Finally, his eyes managed to focus. Within his range of vision he could see an outstretched hand, palm facing the sky, blood covering the fingertips. He dragged himself with his elbow, soon realizing that it was the man from before.

An ally. Somebody came for him.

How ridiculous. Zero was a one-man army, weren't they aware?

The men's shouting got fiercer, gunfire sounding rapidly. After the ringing of more gunshots, all at once their shouting ceased, the soldiers hitting the ground at awkward angles. He was tempted to give in already. He felt so exhausted, like some sleep would do him some good. At the back of his mind, he knew that if he closed his eyes it would be for good, though, and he wanted to thank whoever this person was, even if it would be the last thing he did. Especially if that.

Suzaku pushed himself up on his elbows, ignoring the pain that went far beyond pain, opening his eyes with effort to look up upon the dusty horizon. In the clearing dust stood a figure dressed in white, mask protecting his face, a muffler around his neck, flapping in the wind.

He laughed. “Are you... here to... replace me?” he managed to croak out.

Seeming to abandon his cool exterior, the figure made a break for it, running toward him and nearly dove to kneel before him. He was gathered up in thin arms, weaker than his own but familiar. His mask was released with ease and the blood spilled out, staining the white cravat around his neck. His head was pressed against a warm chest and he listened to the stranger's heartbeat, strong and rhythmic, doing nothing to keep him awake.

“Suzaku,” the man sobbed, holding him tighter.

He reached up slowly, placing a bloody glove to the side of the white mask, feeling its structure to communicate to his senses what his eyes couldn't anymore. They felt so similar. Different, but...

“Who... Are you?”

“Who _else?_ ” he cried, fingers grasping his shoulder almost painfully. “R.R., Negative Zero.”

“Lelouch.”

He sobbed again, sounding more furious than sad, maybe delirious. “Please, Suzaku. What have I...”

Suzaku tried to move again, head swimming from the minimal effort. “Just pick me up,” he gasped out all at once. “I think I've... Nah, I probably haven't survived worse but... Somebody I know... apparently has.” He laughed, coughing. “Idiot. Complete idiot.”

_I've died and gone to heaven already, haven't I?_

He felt himself being hoisted up, carried away, taken... somewhere. He finally let his thoughts rest, satisfied that Nunnally didn't have to pretend anymore.


End file.
